


Kokoro

by firefly_quill



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Friends to Lovers, Hanzo is just figuring some things out, M/M, Mild Angst, and his dragons try their best to help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-09 03:59:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14708675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firefly_quill/pseuds/firefly_quill
Summary: Hearing voices was commonplace for a Shimada– it was their silence that was cause for concern.Based on the following prompt: “When the heart speaks, the mind finds it indecent to object.”





	Kokoro

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> Here is another attempt at my [prompt list](https://fireflyquill.tumblr.com/post/172111446599/hi-3-ive-created-a-sort-of-mini-prompt-list).  
> The original idea was to examine the different personalities of the two dragons, perhaps as a split between heart and mind, and to trace their relationship with Hanzo as he grew up.  
> I have experimented with a more description-heavy style here and would love to hear your thoughts if you had the time. I hope that you enjoy the story! <3

Hearing voices was commonplace for a Shimada– it was their silence that was cause for concern.

Hanzo grew up with both of his spirit dragons chattering incessantly inside his head. It was the first time they had been born into consciousness in several hundred years, and they were every bit as curious, adventurous and mischievous as their new young master. Together, they got into all manner of trouble, often with Genji and his own dragon in tow.

As Hanzo grew older, each dragon became more distinct. The one he had named Udon had an insatiable appetite for knowledge—he was the one who wanted to see if Genji could catch the biggest koi in the garden pond with his bare hands, to see if Hanzo could split the shot of a single arrow into five. Soba often encouraged Udon, but more out of playfulness and affection rather than curiosity, wanting to pull off practical jokes on Genji not to show that he could, but to show that he cared to. He was fascinated by the spaces between the rules that were held as law—when he spoke to Hanzo, it felt more like a gentle hum in his heart than concrete words. 

A few years more, and Udon's excitement quietened, as curiosity evolved into a love of absolutes and problem solving. He would often echo the words of Hanzo's father—duty was the expected truth, the unshakable fact upon which Hanzo's life was built, and Udon's entire world view was shaped by and against it. Soba, by contrast, held fast to affection, emotions, matters of the heart—in other words, everything that the heir to the Shimada clan should discard. 

As Udon's voice grew stronger and more authoritative, Soba's diminished. He rebelled at first, not understanding the logic of growing up: not wanting to give up Hanzo's only hour of playtime (which Udon called childish), pointing out that Genji only seemed to be getting more and more. Why should his younger brother have two slices of cake when Hanzo was allowed none at all?

 _Because he is foolish,_ Udon would snap. _Wayward. Unworthy._

Despite his earlier feelings, Soba answered in Genji's defense, although it was barely whispered, as though he already knew he had lost.

_He is our brother._

Soba disliked the coldness that had settled between Hanzo and Genji, and he crooned sadly about how distant they had become. For his part, Hanzo agreed with Udon, nurtured his disdain and arrogance, swallowing down Soba's protests as one might swallow bile.

_He is our brother._

Hanzo thought he might have heard this exact phrase, however faint, however fragile, before duty turned his sword against Genji, a sword that he had agreed to wield.

The day Hanzo struck down Genji was the day Soba fell completely silent.

\---

For ten years, Hanzo wandered alone and broken, with only Udon's voice to accompany him. Neither dragon appeared corporeally anymore unless called to battle, and even then, Soba would disappear afterwards without a word, leaving Hanzo feeling more empty, more guilty than ever before. Udon's voice had also lost its confidence. Hanzo's pain cut them all, and redemption and duty, while noble, were poor solace for a shattered heart.

And then it all changed.

Genji was not dead.

Hanzo's little brother returned, promising forgiveness, redemption, family.

Udon chirped so quickly afterwards that Hanzo could barely follow: this was a responsibility that only Hanzo could fulfill. This is what was _owed_. Hanzo didn't find the words particularly convincing, to be honest. Honour was what brought him to where he was in the first place—the desire to do what was right had caused the ultimate wrong.

But then, that trace of a whisper from a presence Hanzo had thought had all but abandoned him— _He is our brother._

Hanzo threw aside his sake gourd and made ready to leave for Gibraltar. 

\---

The cowboy was a puzzle that Udon could not solve. He was simply a concept that could not be explained by Udon's method of understanding the world. 

His face had a nice symmetry, his voice had a deep timbre, his laughter shook the whole room. His body was that of a man who had been in one too many fights and had one too many beers; and his words were loud, uncouth, but incredibly kind. And this all somehow put Hanzo's stomach in knots. The whole equation was terribly confusing. 

It should have come as no surprise that Udon would require a closer look. 

Hanzo nearly choked on his tea one day (Genji was not so lucky, spewing his all the way across the table and half onto Hanzo's face) when Jesse came to find them with the small blue dragon perched on his shoulder. 

"Hey uh... Does this lil' fella belong to one of you?" he asked awkwardly. 

Udon was corporeal, and had taken the size of a ferret. He had scaled Jesse's body and was clawing at the top buttons of his shirt in an attempt to investigate the pattern of chest hair beneath (Hanzo recognized that this was what Udon was attempting to do as he had often wondered about the exact same thing himself).

Before Genji could answer, Hanzo had leapt across the room with amazing dexterity to tear the indignant dragon from Jesse's body and fled the scene.

The next day, Jesse found the dragon in his boot the hard way (by stepping blindly into it). The week after, Jesse stopped asking about it, as it was no longer unexpected to find Udon examining him in various circumstances, and Jesse knew he'd find no answers about the dragon's motives from his master.

While Hanzo did have some influence over the spirit dragons, especially on the battlefield, there was little that he could do to dissuade them from doing whatever they wanted when his life was not in danger. He had expressed to Udon as clearly as he could that he wished for the dragon to stop in his investigations, but Udon largely ignored him, explaining as loftily as a cat-sized dragon could through chirps that this would be for Hanzo’s benefit as well. He _was_ equally as confused about the gunslinger, was he not? 

And so Hanzo resigned himself to embarrassment. Seeing that McCree didn’t seem to mind Udon’s presence anymore, and in fact, seemed to enjoy it, there seemed to be little risk of anything going awry.

His passive acceptance of Udon’s behavior meant though that Hanzo was completely blindsided for that which came next. 

He entered the rec room one afternoon to find Udon curled on Jesse's lap (the dragon had explained just a few days ago that the virtues of being petted far outweighed not being pet, almost as though there were an implicit suggestion at work). This was barely a surprise anymore. 

Draped around Jesse's neck, however, purring in content, was Soba.

Hanzo could only stare helplessly at the part of him that had been missing for more than a decade—if he were to be honest, the part of him that he had ignored, belittled, intentionally chased away—lying happily on McCree's shoulder like all was well in the world, and that he hadn't been missing at all.

It felt like betrayal, although not completely undeserved.

The dragons flicked their tails and looked up, sensing Hanzo's distress. Udon explained defensively that this had been Soba's idea, and Soba dissipated into thin air before Hanzo could plead for him to stay.

Jesse finally noticed Hanzo, and misread him completely.

"Aww, don't get mad at 'em, Han," he chided with a bright grin. "I've been told my lap is mighty invitin'. How could they stop themselves?"

Two things occurred to Hanzo as he fled once again: that he hadn't needed confirmation regarding the comfort level of Jesse's lap, and that McCree spoke as though seeing both dragons was completely normal to him.

–––

"You should talk to him."

Hanzo looked up from his rice, glaring daggers over the bowl.

"They obviously want you to," Genji nodded towards Hanzo's tattoo.

Hanzo went back to eating without replying. Genji sighed.

"Look. They obviously like him. Both of them. And they never like anybody."

Hanzo was careful not to meet Genji eye to eye.

"When's the last time all three of you agreed on anything?" Genji pressed on. "Singularity of mind —that is difficult to achieve."

That much was true. Hanzo had not told Genji about Soba's absence, but as with many things with his younger brother, he did not have to.

"Soba's affection is especially rare," Genji continued more gently. "He has always been more aware of your heart, although you are quick to dismiss and slow to acknowledge him."

While Hanzo knew this, had known this for most of his life, it took his brother saying it out loud before it finally registered (not that he would admit it). He had always known that Soba spoke more truly something inside him that he understood less and less. It was why he had spent so many years denying the dragon’s voice, as surely as he denied his own desires. It made complete sense that Soba had returned in a moment where so much seemed up for question—was Hanzo here because he needed to be, or because he wanted to be? Perhaps Hanzo knew the answer to that as well, even if he could not speak it out loud. 

They sat in silence, as Hanzo continued to enforce a stubborn impasse, and Genji planned his next move, knowing that his window of opportunity was closing.

"When I first joined Blackwatch, Ramen and I argued all the time."

Hanzo came to a full stop with the rice lifted part way to his mouth. Genji had never spoken directly about his time in Blackwatch, likely to avoid stumbling into a conversation that neither of them could handle.

"It was not until I reached Nepal that I was able to feel in sync with him again. Until I once again felt whole."

The rice began to double, waver in front of Hanzo's eyes, as Hanzo focused on it with all his will to prevent the lump in his throat from choking him. Genji put a hand on his shoulder as he stood, once again recognizing what Hanzo could not say.

"I hope that you will find peace soon as well."

\---

There was a faint murmur emanating from a space nestled deep in Hanzo's mind: one that he could not completely make out, but understood nonetheless. It brought him to Jesse's door one evening, a bottle of bourbon in hand.

Jesse greeted him with a bright smile and a kindness and excitement of which he was not worthy.

Udon manifested right away, and set up contentedly in Jesse's lap. Soba appeared half an hour later, smaller, more translucent, more cautious. Jesse cooed at him with encouragement and extended a hand, as though this behavior was normal, and like he knew exactly how to handle it. Soba took several steps forward to sniff at Jesse's fingers before deciding it was safe to scale McCree's back onto his neck, where Hanzo had seen him the first time, while Hanzo continued to watch quietly in awe. 

McCree was happy to fill the space with his own talking for the better part of an hour, as he always was. Hanzo was happy just to listen, captivated by the way Jesse's voice fluctuated with animation, by the movement of his hands, by the near misses of their skin, which Hanzo felt were carefully orchestrated.

There was a faint chirp, and Hanzo looked up, realizing that Jesse had asked him a question that had Udon stumped.

"You've not said a word all evening, darlin'," Jesse was likely repeating the question for him, seeing the blankness of his expression. "Somethin' botherin' you?"

Hanzo pursed his lips and shook his head. From Jesse's lap, Udon chittered at him in frustration, convinced that there _was_ something, but unable to express it.

"Doesn't have to be somethin'," Jesse added hastily. "I enjoy your company regardless. You just... you just look so sad sometimes sweetpea, and it hurts my heart."

Jesse was reaching forward slowly to put his hand on Hanzo's. Hanzo twitched preemptively, and McCree stopped, apology ready on his lips.

Soba appeared without warning at Hanzo's side, squeaking loudly, and he pounced onto Jesse's hand before it could completely retract.

They both blinked at the small dragon with surprise. Soba began to chitter at Jesse, not aware or not caring that McCree could not understand. 

"He's not usually this talkative," Jesse chuckled, scratching under Soba's chin, and earning a long purr. "Takes after his master."

Hanzo had noticed Jesse noticing him a long time ago, but this was the first time it was nearly spoken aloud, and was attached to such an open fondness. 

Strengthened by Soba's conviction and the softness of Jesse's smile, Hanzo closed the distance between their hands, grasping too hard and too suddenly at Jesse's wrist. McCree didn't even flinch, but his eyes flickered upwards to meet Hanzo's, brimming with caution and hope.

"What do you need, Hanzo?" he asked quietly, turning his hand so that the palm was faced upward, and smoothing circles onto Hanzo's wrist with his thumb.

Hanzo turned to Soba, silently asking for both forgiveness and assistance. Soba chirped. A single word resonated through Hanzo's mind, clear as a bell.

_Him._

Udon lifted his head and looked between the two of them. He squeaked in agreement, finally comprehending what he could not grasp by himself. 

_Him._

Worry began to collect in the creases of Jesse's features as Hanzo did not answer, did not even move for just a moment too long. Hanzo took in a breath, eyes darting upward to meet in his.

"You."

His voice cracked, broke as though from disuse. Jesse's hands stopped in their ministrations and his grip tightened. Hanzo pulled his arm forward, and Jesse followed, falling across Hanzo's body. Jesse cradled the sides of Hanzo's face to steady him for a kiss that they could all agree was far overdue. 

"You," Hanzo managed to murmur again when they parted for air. 

It was a drop in a still pond—the implications of the idea rippled through Hanzo's very soul, and for the first time in so very long, he knew for certain that all three of them spoke with a single voice.


End file.
